


make the devil change his mind

by Laylah



Category: Psyren
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Forced Exhibitionism, Held at Gunpoint, Hints of Past Trauma, M/M, Villains Make Them Do It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 16:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11256582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: This probably could have been something nice if it weren't for the asshole with the gun.





	make the devil change his mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Puimoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puimoo/gifts).



A loud crack beside his head wakes Haruhiko, and he's rolling away from the sound before he's fully awake. Fuck, his hands are cuffed behind him, steel digging into his wrists as he moves. His eyes snap open as he tries to pull himself up to a sitting position. He reaches for his psi—

And nothing happens.

"The _fuck_ ," he says.

There are two strangers on the other side of the room, leaning there comfortably, and one of them giggles. The one who's holding a pistol, letting it dangle loosely in his hand, entirely too casual. Haruhiko glances down, and yeah, that's a bullet hole in the concrete right next to where he was just lying.

His gaze travels a little further and the _oh shit_ feeling gets worse. These guys got Kagetora, too—he's chained to a chair less than a meter away, his face a bloody wreck, slumped forward like he's not conscious. He's breathing, though. Thank fuck he's breathing. But he's in no shape to get them out of here, especially if he can't use his psi either.

"Okay," Haruhiko says, turning back to their captors, "okay, I think we've had some kind of misunderstanding here, we just—"

The _crack_ of another gunshot shuts him right up.

The gunman's partner—a bigger guy with a ragged scar down one cheek—smacks him in the back of the head. "Cut that shit out," he says. "You don't know where a ricochet's going to end up."

"You heard the man," the pretty boy with the gun says. "Next time I gotta hit you."

Fuck. The pretty ones are the worst in a situation like this. You spend enough time feeling like you constantly have something to prove, you get _mean_.

"Okay," Haruhiko says, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, whatever you want, man, I'll do it, just—"

"Save it," Scar says. "We're just keeping an eye on you until the boss gets here. He's got questions for you freaks."

Haruhiko looks at Kagetora again. If his psi isn't working, how long will it take him to recover? They must have really fucked him up to put him out cold.

"Worried about your boyfriend?" Pretty Boy asks.

"He's not my—"

"Bullshit." Pretty Boy smirks. "You can't tell me you're seriously on the same level with a monster like that."

Haruhiko doesn't say _Speaking from experience?_ because he doesn't want to die.

Maybe it shows on his face, though, because Pretty Boy's eyes narrow and his smile gets meaner. He points his gun at Haruhiko with more actual intent. "I think you should show me, if you know what's good for you."

"Don't kill the captives," Scar says with this sort of weary patience like he's seen this happen before.

"I won't," Pretty Boy says. "Getting shot in the knee's not fatal. Or the elbow. Or through the hand. I have lots of options."

"How about the one where you don't shoot us at all?" Haruhiko says.

"That's up to you," Pretty Boy says. "I won't give you any new piercings if you make it a good show."

Nausea rolls over slow and heavy in Haruhiko's gut. "What do you want to see?"

Pretty Boy giggles. "I want to see you fuck."

Haruhiko hasn't felt this helpless since his psi powers awakened in the first place. He didn't miss it. He takes a couple of deep breaths before he turns back toward the chair. "Hey," he says. He shuffles closer on his knees. "Kagetora. Come on, man, you gotta wake up."

From behind him he hears, "Nah, not convincing."

He's gonna really hate that guy by the time they get out of here.

He crawls right up next to the chair, close enough that he can rest his head on Kagetora's shoulder. He can smell blood, and Kagetora's eye looks badly swollen. They're in so much trouble. "Ka—" he stops himself. "Tora," he says instead. "Hey, come on, come back to me here."

Kagetora makes a low pained noise and winces in a way he probably wouldn't if he were fully awake. He's way too tough to give people ammunition like that. 

"You can kill me later, I kind of deserve it," Haruhiko murmurs, "but I swear right now I'm trying to get us through this. Please, _please_ play along." He presses a kiss to Kagetora's cheek, stubble rough under his lips.

"Shit," Kagetora says, finally stirring and sitting up straighter. "Feels like I lost a fistfight with a truck." He pulls at the chains wrapped around his middle and frowns when they don't give.

"Your freaky powers don't work in this room," Scar says, "so don't bother."

Kagetora looks at Haruhiko, squinting on the swollen side, his eye bloodshot. Haruhiko nods. They're going to have to hope Lan got away and got hold of Ageha or the others, because getting themselves out of this mess won't be easy.

"Come _on_ ," Pretty Boy complains. "Don't bore me."

"Go to hell, you piece of shit," Kagetora retorts immediately, like he's not beaten half to death and chained up.

"No, please," Haruhiko says. "Don't. He wants excuses to hurt us."

Kagetora looks at him again, focusing a little more clearly this time. He probably thinks that was pathetic. He's clearly not afraid of pain. But after a few long seconds he nods. "Okay. What're we doin' here?"

"We're supposed to—to, um." Fuck, if he's having this much trouble just saying it, he's never going to get through this. "Lemme make you feel good, babe."

He's braced for more yelling but Kagetora seems to get it, and instead of giving Haruhiko shit he just shakes his head with a little crooked smile. "We've landed in some pretty fucked-up shit, huh?"

"Yeah," Haruhiko says. "We kinda have."

"Bo-ring," Pretty Boy interrupts. "Less talking, more fucking."

"You know what would really help get this show on the road?" Haruhiko asks, looking back over his shoulder. "Being able to use my hands."

"Oh! Sure." That bright, friendly tone makes Haruhiko wince, sure that this is going nowhere good. "Come on over here."

Still, what can he do but cooperate? He asked for this, and the guy with the gun is agreeing to it. He climbs awkwardly to his feet and crosses the room to where their captors are waiting.

Pretty Boy pushes off the wall and stretches out his hand, pointing the gun right at Haruhiko's face. "Open wide."

It's practically a reflex to reach for his psi when he's in trouble, and he does it now before he remembers that yeah, no, that's not going to do him any good. Staring down the barrel of the gun with no way to fight back makes him feel sick, a useless need to run flashing hot and cold down his limbs and his stomach knotting.

The thing is, when you have your back to the wall, that's when you find out what you're willing to go through to survive, and Haruhiko learned a long time ago that he's willing to do whatever the asshole in charge demands. He licks his lips and opens his mouth.

"There we go." The gun slips into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue, cold and heavy. It's not any more dangerous than having it pointed at his face but it's _worse_. The barrel nudges the back of his throat and he gags, squeezing his eyes shut so the tears won't spill over. This fuckbag doesn't deserve to see him cry.

"Fuck you, you piece of shit!" Kagetora yells as Pretty Boy works the gun in Haruhiko's mouth, a slow fucking motion. "You point that thing at me if you gotta play tough."

"Man, don't get him riled up," Scar says. "You know it won't be you that pays for it, right?"

"Tch," Kagetora says, but that's all. Thank god.

"You're so lazy," Pretty Boy says, sounding almost fond. "You just don't want to clean up after me."

"Nope," Scar agrees. He strolls around behind Haruhiko and there's a jingle of keys before he starts fiddling with the cuffs. Haruhiko holds very still and doesn't fight it as Pretty Boy gun-fucks his mouth. The cuff comes off his left wrist first, a slide of cold metal, so much harder than the fragile bones of his wrists. He doesn't move, keeps his hands right where they are even when Scar pulls the cuffs all the way off and steps away. He knows this game. Do what you're told. Don't give them excuses to get mad.

After the longest two minutes of his life, Pretty Boy pulls the gun out of his mouth. "No more excuses now," he says. "Go on. Show me how much you love getting up on that big fat dick."

_You wish you had one half as nice_ , Haruhiko thinks, because at least in a room with no psi he doesn't have to worry about anybody overhearing his thoughts. He turns and walks back to Kagetora, who looks like he wants to kill somebody, but that look is for their captors, not for him. 

Somebody will come rescue them eventually, right? They just have to hold on.

Haruhiko kneels on the floor in front of Kagetora's chair, running shaking hands up his thighs. "Not so bad, right?" He's kind of just staring at the buttons of Kagetora's shirt, not looking up as his hands make it far enough to start unbuckling Kagetora's belt. It's true. This isn't so bad. This could be a lot worse. Everything's okay. He's fine.

"D'you kiss?" Kagetora asks quietly, and Haruhiko flinches. The whole question is usually _Do you kiss when you're working?_ and he's heard it from plenty of guys before, and it means Kagetora has figured him out, what he used to do, what he used to be.

When he looks up, though, the expression on Kagetora's face isn't judgmental the way he expected. It's sort of... sympathetic? And that makes it easier to answer, "Sure. I mean, I can."

He stretches up to press their lips together, carefully, since they're both pretty beat up already. Kagetora's mouth tastes like blood, but that's better than the oily sharpness of the gun lingering on his tongue. He kisses a lot more gently than Haruhiko would have expected, or maybe he's just being careful because they're so wrecked. It's kind of sweet. This probably could have been something nice if it weren't for the asshole with the gun.

When he gets Kagetora's pants open and reaches inside, he finds Kagetora still mostly soft. That's a problem but also a relief, since it means Haruhiko's not the only one who thinks this is a shitty situation. Still, even soft, it's pretty clear he's going to be just as big here as everywhere else. Anything else would have been too easy.

He kisses a little harder as he starts trying to stroke Kagetora hard, and he hopes it comes across more like getting into it than being desperate. Is Kagetora even into guys? He's always been so hung up on Matsuri, it's never come up. His cock is thickening in Haruhiko's hand, though, and he groans at an especially rough stroke, this low noise that's almost a growl and makes a little flutter of panic hum through Haruhiko's nerves.

It's fine. He's got this.

"Lemme get you wet," he says as he pulls back from the kiss, and looks down before he can see if Kagetora is disgusted with him yet.

Up close Kagetora's cock is a beast, about like he figured. Haruhiko licks his lips and leans down, taking it in his mouth as deep as he can on the first stroke. He gags on it, tears springing to his eyes, and makes himself do it again. Kagetora swears.

"Louder," Pretty Boy says. "I wanna be entertained here."

"You piece a shit," Kagetora says breathlessly. His cock throbs in Haruhiko's mouth. "Fuck. That's." It sounds like he doesn't want to cooperate, and Haruhiko figures he can't blame him. Still, somebody has to do it if they don't want to get maimed, so Haruhiko moans around the dick in his mouth as he reaches down to unzip his jeans. It sounds so porny and fake to his own ears but it pretty much always does, and guys seem to not care.

He shoves down his jeans and his boxers, squirming out of them before he lets himself pull up. If he just doesn't think too hard, he can do this. He doesn't look up as he stands. He turns around, sits down in Kagetora's lap, reaches back to line him up. If it felt big in his mouth, it feels even bigger pressing against his ass.

He pushes. It hurts. He doesn't let himself stop. It's not like going slow would make it easier. The hot-and-cold shivers are back and it's hard to keep breathing and goddamnit it's not like this is anywhere near the most pain he's ever been in and that doesn't _matter_ , right, there's something about this kind of pain that just makes him feel sick and helpless and small. By the time he's pushed himself all the way down on it he has the shakes.

"Haru, man, you okay?" Kagetora asks from behind him, really quiet, so the audience might not be able to hear it.

Haruhiko nods once. What else is he going to do? They have to go through with this whether he's okay or not. It's about surviving, not about his fucking feelings. He braces his hands on Kagetora's thighs and lifts himself up slightly, then pushes back down again. His breath hitches despite himself.

"Tell me how good it is," Pretty Boy croons. "Tell me how much it gets you hot."

That's such bullshit. He's gotta be able to see that Haruhiko isn't even hard. But who cares, right?

He rocks down on Kagetora's cock again and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to check out enough that he can go through the motions and get through this. "So fucking big," he says, breathy and plaintive. "God, you're splitting me right open, I can't—" Pretty Boy moans hungrily and Haruhiko just falls apart, the words dying in his throat as he tries to choke down a sob.

"Goddamnit," Kagetora growls, "you better be enjoying this, asshole, because I'm going to kill you when we get out of here."

That, somehow, makes Haruhiko's heart hurt in a way that none of the rest of this mess has, and any hope he had of toughing it out just crumbles. His shoulders shake and he can't get enough air and god he wishes he could block out the way Pretty Boy laughs.

"Hey," Kagetora says, quieter, his chains rattling as he pulls against them, "Haru, come here." Haruhiko leans back so his back rests against Kagetora's broad chest, and Kagetora leans into him, chin tucked against his shoulder, breath warm against his ear. "You got this," he murmurs. "I know this ain't where you wanna be, and I know it ain't what you wanna be doing, but you got this. These fuckbags ain't gonna beat either of us down."

Haruhiko twists in his lap to be able to kiss him again, because somebody trying to be nice to him right now is—well, it's sweet, right, but he can't handle it if he's going to have any chance of pulling himself together here. Kagetora's lip starts bleeding again but Haruhiko doesn't apologize, doesn't pull back. A little thing like that is the least of either of their worries.

Holding that position isn't easy, though, and after a minute Haruhiko has to let the kiss go. He glances over at their captors as he straightens back up, just for a second, but that's enough. Scar looks bored but Pretty Boy is squeezing the bulge in the front of his jeans and he leers when Haruhiko meets his eyes.

Please, please let help get here before he has to let that shitpile fuck him too.

"Fuck me," Haruhiko rasps, forcing the words out despite how badly his voice shakes. "Come on, Tora, give it to me hard."

"You're goddamn fearless," Kagetora says, which is bullshit, but he sounds impressed, and that's more than Haruhiko would have expected from him. He rocks his hips, thrusting up, and Haruhiko tries to make his helpless little noises sound more like pleasure than like pain.

He's not convincing himself, but this was never about him being entertained. He makes himself keep moving, pushing down to meet Kagetora's thrusts despite the raw, painful stretch. Pretty Boy keeps talking, saying shit about how hot it is to watch him struggle with such a big dick, how good he looks stuffed full like that, and Haruhiko tries not to pay more attention than he has to. the words make him think about it too hard, when blocking everything out is the only way he knows how to get through this kind of shit without falling apart.

And somehow he manages, holding it together long enough that Kagetora arches up under him, swearing, cock pulsing in Haruhiko's ass. His breath is hot on the back of Haruhiko's neck, harsh and panting. Haruhiko stares at the concrete, trying to swallow his nausea, and waits for the next blow to fall, because he knows it has to.

"So that was a nice warmup," Pretty Boy says. "Maybe now your boyfriend would like to watch you—"

There's a muffled, deep _boom_ from somewhere above them, resonant enough that the exposed pipes in the ceiling rattle. Adrenaline jolts through Haruhiko's limbs and again he reaches for his psi instinctively—and this time sparks crackle to life around his hands. Pretty Boy's eyes go wide and he raises his gun but Haruhiko's already pushing the electricity outward, unloading a full-bore dose of Shocker at Pretty Boy and Scar both. Nobody shoots faster than lightning.

The room fills with the sharp, nasty smell of burned skin and hair. "Looks like Lan managed to get help, huh," Haruhiko says.

Metal creaks ominously from behind him and then clinks as chains slither down to puddle on the floor. "Looks like," Kagetora agrees. His hands wrap around Haruhiko's waist, steadying him, gently but firmly urging him to get up.

Haruhiko winces at the motion as he gets up off Kagetora's cock. He's going to be feeling that for days. He's going to be unable to look Kagetora in the eyes for a lot longer than that.

They don't say anything while Haruhiko puts his pants back on and Kagetora goes to check on the door. They're going to be okay now. It's going to be fine. Haruhiko still wants to cry, or puke, or just lock himself in the shower and never come out, but it's okay. He can be pathetic later, on his own time.

"Hey," Kagetora says when they're ready to get going. He doesn't say anything else until Haruhiko looks up at him. "A real man don't let dumb shit like pride get in the way of saving people. You did good. You kept us both alive." He puts a hand on Haruhiko's shoulder and squeezes once.

"Yeah." Haruhiko nods, looking down again. "Thanks."

Kagetora lets him go. They climb the stairs, and leave this basement room behind them, and it's fine. They got through. It's fine.


End file.
